


cane shuga

by fletcherenns



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, just ramya but others are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27206408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fletcherenns/pseuds/fletcherenns
Summary: Ramya is beaming with that gap-tooth grin, like always, but there’s something decidedly sharp in her eyes ⸺ also like always.almost a character study.
Kudos: 4





	cane shuga

**Author's Note:**

> creative liberty bc i refuse to type bri ish.  
> did not turn out how i intended, but it's a very quick thing bc ??? where's the ramya CONTENT???? hello???
> 
> translations below. title from the glass animals song of the same name.

You don’t survive easy in the Outlands. It’s a truth of life, as blatant as the IMC logos stamped on every free wall. But there’s a trick to everything, like reloading any gun or modding any tech or trying to survive on Gaea with no family left. A certain amount of ruthless profit-motive incentive you need to have, and if Parekh has learnt to know anything, it’s maximisation of revenue. _Haan_ , you can sit on a moral throne and preach the bleeding heart crap all you want — but that’s never been Ramya’s style, has it?

You fight your way to the top, and then you do every goddamn awful thing you need to do to keep your arse seated on that throne. 

Until it gets burnt down by a girl group of no-balls, no honour, little bitch mercenaries. In that case, you adapt. 

Auntie had mentioned that in a time long gone, the Hammond _H_ had looked like a hospital H instead. Don’t get it twisted, you'd never believed her, even when you were 8 and she was trying to distract you from the copper ache in your mouth and a missing tooth. Her words had reeked of second-hand information, of _meray dost ke dost ka dost_. Information that had been muddled in a centuries-long game of whisper, clung to by people who proudly bore their accents in direct rebellion, but were never sure against what. You remember your father’s perfect English, and his insistence to emphasise his accent. It’s culture, _beta._ We have to keep it, cos’ we bring our home with us, don' we? 

That hadn’t made sense then and it barely made sense now, but it wasn’t hardly as concernin’ as the fact that you’re glaring at the blaring Harvester… thing, with no teammates and a rapidly nearing blaring ring o’ murder. The job was to Blisk, but you’ve never been one to lose. It’s something you need to repeat under your breath, lest ya give in to the temptation to launch yourself in the lava rather than give anyone else the satisfaction of wiping your squad. Pah. _Squad, she says_.

Get information, says Blisk. Keep an eye on Mirage, says Blisk. Careful with Wraith, says Blisk. Watch the strange boy with the drone kit, says Blisk. Everything that could be easier if you hadn't been launched out of a ship with aforementioned teammates, and if they hadn’t chosen to land and die across the map without a single ping.

You know what? Fuck you, Blisk. Fuckin' right tosser.

You’d been told the gum would help stop you from grinding your teeth to sand, but that doesn’t seem very true right now. Still, Sheila's weight is a comfort, and you’re tempted to set ‘er up to catch any of the stray plonkers mucking about. But you don’t want to broadcast yourself neither. Ring would be in before you could even put her down, though. Bloody audacious of the Syndicate to make you nerf her while letting a teleporter run amok.

Gauntlet runs were easier. Girl meets gun. Girl meets fists. Girl meets giant chunk of metal she uses to bash a head in.

You know, the usual.

There’s three squads left. You have a chance, if you carry out the single most perfect third party on the planet, but—

 _Squad Eliminated._ _Two squads remain._

Krabers, you growl as you trudge out of the medbay. Rampart needs a pint. Or three. Or five. 

**Author's Note:**

> haan-yes  
> meray dost ke dost ka dost- a friend of my friend’s friend.  
> beta- affectionate term for a child, neutral or male


End file.
